In the Blood
by CraftyCay
Summary: Takes place immediately after 2x22. What if drinking Klaus' blood does more than heal werewolf bites? What if Elena needs Damon more than she ever wanted to admit? This story explores what could have happened. AU. Delena
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own anything, I'm just borrowing them. This is my first fanfic submission, so I'd love reviews and feedback! Hope you enjoy - it's my intention to make this a full story.**

Elena sat down next to him on the bed, set the bloody bottle on the nightstand carefully, and turned to him. She took his hands, leaned down and cocked her head to the side to meet his eyes.

"Did it really work? Are you..." She let her words trail off, feeling the sweat that still covered him, his hands clammy. She touched him delicately, as if he could break at any moment. He looked at her, his eyes wide, his face expressionless, and rolled up his left sleeve. They both let out a deep, gusty breath.

"It's gone." Damon said, running his fingers along the inside of his elbow. He felt strange, ill at ease in his own body. "Something still isn't right." His words were almost a whisper. Elena pressed him back down into the pillows. She wiped the sheen of sweat off his forehead, looked at him quizzically for a few moments.

"You look," she paused, searching for the right word. "Normal." Well, she thought to herself, normal if vampires could look like they had just gotten over the flu.

"I'm hungry," he drawled. He ran his tongue over his lips, wishing desperately for something warm to drink. Elena touched her fingers to his cheek and found him warm.

"Here," she murmured, curling into his body and sweeping her hair to one side. The sensitive skin of her neck rested just a breath away from his lips.

"No." His voice was a horse whisper. "Elena, I -"

"I trust you, Damon." She looked him in the eyes, and he could see the pain there. "I can't lose you tonight, too." He returned her gaze, searching for something then, finding it, he nodded.

"Relax while I do this, 'Lena. If you can relax it won't hurt. I'll be as gentile as I -" She shushed him by pressing her throat closer, making contact between her supple flesh and his hungry mouth. He couldn't have resisted in that moment if he had wanted to. The smell of her, the feel of her curled into him, was more than he could bear. He snaked his fingers through her hair, maneuvering her head subtly into position. His canines had already elongated, searing like fire as they extended, then made contact with her neck. With the gentleness of a lover he punctured a vein, her blood flowing like a fine wine onto his tongue.

Elena went still and soft in Damon's arms, careful to keep her head position just so - to make it easier for him to drink. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the evening. She had almost lost Damon without a word, without even a goodbye. He would have died protecting the people she cared about, without the forgiveness he had so earnestly ask for. _Damon_, she thought to herself. _Oh Damon_. She knew now that it was his love for her that had brought him back from the loss of his own humanity.

She had chosen Stefan, had fallen in love with him before she had really known who he was, or even what. She took a deep, slow breath, feeling the soft lapping of Damon's tongue, and pressed the hand that she had wrapped around him more firmly, nestling her body deeper into his embrace.

She hadn't been lying when she said she liked him just the way he was - he may not have been the most compassionate of the Salvatore brothers, but he had always been the most loyal, the most honest. Unlike Stefan, Damon had never hidden the darkness inside, never pretended that he was only one facet of his personality. She smiled sadly with her eyes still closed, and just _was_.

In the trance of the feeding he could almost see into her mind, feel how dangerously close she was to despair. While he drew the blood gently, oh so gently from her, he opened his mind, enveloped her with all the love that he felt for her. He wished powerfully that he could take away the heartache. If what Katherine had said was true, Stefan was never coming back - at least not any time this century. There would be time for them both to grieve Stefan, but for now... Damon couldn't even put together a coherent thought. All he knew was that the woman he loved was in his arms, warm and safe, and that he was never letting her go.

When he slowly pulled his fangs from her neck he kissed the little marks he had left there.

"Thank you, Elena." Damon gathered her body up and held her closer still. She sighed comfortably and smiled at him, her eyes heavily lidded and soft. "Everything about you is just so, so soft." He let his long fingers trace circles over her cheeks, down her neck, and he could hear her heart begin to race as he let his hands travel down her sides, just skimming the sides of her breasts. Again she was still in his arms, her eyes wide now.

When his clever fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt, then slipped beneath it she gasped, and pressed herself closer. When his palms caressed her hips, the flatness of her stomach, she sighed his name, then her hands began to wander too.

"Elena, you should –" She stopped him with the soft press of her lips against his.

"This night, just this one, is for us – a gift from Stefan. Don't waste it." Elena's voice was a thick mixture of pleasure and despair.

"God, Elena, I just wish I could take the pain away." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, stilled his hands to look at her.

"You can, Damon. Tonight, for me, you can." The stillness erupted into movement as he pressed her body down into the bed, pulled off her shirt, helped her pull off his. He kneeled over her, his eyes blazing, and just looked at her. She was his angel, his redemption. He blinked back tears, felt her slender fingers loosening his belt, unbuttoning his tight black pants. He gloried in the feeling of her fingers as they teased beneath the waistband of his boxers. He groaned, felt her skin cool against his own.

In one quick jerk he has smoothly pulled her pants down to her ankles - he cursed as he fumbled with her sneakers. He still felt strangely weak, clumsy even. Finally he managed to tear them off, along with her pants and a delicate pair of emerald green panties that matched the bra she was wearing. He flashed her a quick 250 kilowatt smile, his expression one of amusement as well as appreciation. Could this really be real?

But she was real, moving beneath him, running her fingers appreciatively over his well muscled chest, letting them play down his flat belly, to the soft patch of black hair below. She pulled roughly at the waist of his pants, effectively shucking them off after he shifted to kick them to the floor. Then there he was, gloriously nude in front of her, a dark god.

"Oh Damon," she pulled him down on top of her, showering him with frenzied kisses and stroking his back. With his name on her lips he plunged into her, filling her utterly. She arched her back, bucking her hips wildly as he pumped his length into her.

Her body was electric beneath him, moving in ways that made him ache. He had never been with anyone like her before. It was as if she was meant for him the way their bodies melded together. He reigned hot kisses down on her, pressing his lips against hers until hers were swollen and thick. Then he trailed them down her neck and shoulders, pleasing himself by sucking her erect nipple, bringing her closer to climax with his teeth and tongue.

"'Lena," he whispered, everything inside him building up, pressing forward toward release. He could feel, too, the pressure building in her, two bodies struggling toward one another. "My 'Lena," his words were an oath, and he brought her home, feeling her spasming, pulling at his manhood. Elena threw her head back beneath him, moaning throatily.

"I love you, Elena." He pressed his body over hers, needing her skin on his.

"Damon, I -" Elena voice was a murmur. He pressed her into his chest, suddenly terrified at how she would end that sentence, and the words were lost in the quiet sounds of the bed shifting beneath them as Damon rolled across her and drew her up again in his arms.

###

"Good morning, sunshine." Damon was up and awake before Elena the next morning, and he was in a strange but good mood. He held out a cup of coffee to her and she blinked repeatedly, trying to orient to where she was and how she had gotten there. Her heart skipped in her chest when she remembered what had happened the night before.

"Hi," she replied shyly as she accepted the steaming mug. A slight smile touched the edges of her mouth and Damon had to stop himself from kissing her. She took a pensive sip of coffee, wrapping both hands around the warmth of the cup. She made an appreciative 'mmm' noise and swallowed, then looked up at Damon, met his icy blue eyes with her deep brown ones.

"Come on downstairs," Damon raised his eyebrows and smiled. "I made breakfast." Elena raised one finely arched brow at this, then shrugged into the warm robe that Damon held out for her.

When she was seated at the cozy, round wooden table in the kitchen, Damon served her up a plate of eggs, bacon and toast. She smiled at him, and he slid into the chair across from her, his own plate in his hand.

"How are you?" She asked him, a little puzzled. "I don't think I've ever seen you eat before."

"Well, Elena," he held up a thick piece of meat, took a bite. "Not even vampires can resist bacon." He faltered for a moment, surprised at how good the bacon tasted. Generally food tasted like – well, like cardboard. He chewed thoughtfully, enjoying the subtle flavors, then shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. His eyes narrowed as he ate, the eggs – simple scrambled eggs – were so creamy and salty.

"What?" Elena asked over a mouthful of toast with grape jam. He looked suddenly suspicious, as if the food had been laced with vervain.

"I'm – I'm not sure. This tastes so good. I don't think I've tasted food like this since –" Damon threw down his fork suddenly sprang up from the chair and paced across the kitchen. Before she could even get up he had pulled a knife out of the knife block on the counter and had sliced a thin gash across his forearm.

"Damon!" She shouted, jumping up from the table. "What are you doing?" He set the knife on the counter with his back turned to her, then turned slowly, his eyes trained on the cut he had just made.

"Elena, it's not healing." He pressed his other hand over the wound, his eyes wide with terror. "I – I think Klaus' blood made me human."

"That's not – is that possible?" Elena's voice trembled violently as she crossed the room to touch Damon's shoulder. She took his hand and uncovered the angry gash on his forearm. She pressed the fingers of both hands to her lips with a look of horror.

"This is so, so bad." Damon muttered. Then his eyes fluttered and he sank to the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

"Alaric, come here – he's waking up!" Damon could hear Elena's voice, but it was strange and far away. His pressed his fingers into his eyes and groaned loudly, cursing.

"Ugh – that was no fun at all." He pressed his eyes open, looked around and realized that he was back in his bedroom, tucked into his bed. "How did I get back here?"

"You passed out, Damon." Elena sat down on the edge of the bed, brushed the back of her hand across his forehead. "He's still warm." She turned to exchange looks at Alaric. Alaric took three long strides across to the bed, touched Damon's face roughly and whistled sharply.

"That is quite a predicament you've gotten yourself into, there, Damon." He patted the other man's cheek roughly, smirking.

"I can't be human. That is not acceptable!" Damon punched the mattress, shocked at the feebleness of his own movements, and by the sudden rush of pain that shot through his arm.

"Careful, Damon! Your arm –"

"Oh, you had better get Bonnie over here _now_," Damon drawled darkly. "This sure as hell better not be permanent."

"I don't think it will be," Alaric scoffed. "However ironic that would be. Your temperature is cooler than average and your healing – while not vampire fast – is still progressing much more rapidly than that of a human. So for now, you're just going to have to suck it up." Alaric chuckled throatily, and Damon had to resist the urge to throw a pillow at him.

"Do you have any idea how long this will last? I mean, we're finally gotten through the cata-Kluas-m. We made it. I at least want to enjoy it!"

"Glad to see your wit has nothing to do with your vampirism." Elena gave him a dry smile. "Clearly you're feeling better."

Damon swung his legs over the side of the bed, whipped back the covers and stood up in one smooth motion, though it felt to him as if he was doing it in slow motion. He looked at the two humans, huffed out a breath and stalked off.

"Seriously, call the witch. I'm going to go take a shower - I feel so...sweaty," he called over his shoulder.

###

Damon stood in the shower, letting the hot water run down his lean frame. The heat, the steam had never felt so good. He leaned his back against the wall of the shower, jolting at the cool glass against his skin. He forced himself to keep contact with it, feeling the panic welling up inside him. Human. How could he be human again? Sure, Klaus was gone from Mystic Falls, but so was Stefan. Elena was safe for now, while Klaus believed she was dead, but how long could that really last? Even though they seemed to be in a lull, Damon knew that he had to be on his guard - how could he do that as a mere human?! He slammed his fist against the one tile wall of the shower and cursed, his hand throbbing as the shock reverberated up his arm.

"It's going to be okay Damon." He turned to find Elena sitting on the edge of the bathtub, her arms crossed over her shoulders, her brown eyes watching him. He hadn't heard her come back into the room. He sighed in exasperation and turned his eyes skyward, then give her a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow.

"You might as well come in," he opened the shower door. "The water's fine."

"Damon," she stood up and walked over to she shower. She was still wearing the robe that he had given her. "I don't think that's such a good idea." She gave him a halfhearted smile and pressed the glass door back into place.

"Elena, wait." He turned the shower off and opened the door - the cool air hit his skin giving him goose bumps. He looked down at his arms, covered in goose flesh, and rubbed them feverishly for a moment before reaching out for Elena's terry cloth clad shoulder. "I - I need you. I know last night was sort of...impromptu, but you're the only solid thing I have right now. And... I need you." The last words were hard to get out, hard to admit that he needed anything or anyone.

"I know." Elena put her arms around his neck, pressing her body into his. She could feel the tension leave his body as he relaxed into her embrace. They stood there together for a few long moments, Damon totally naked, the fuzzy sleeves of Elena's robe enveloping him. "I need you too."

Pulling back, Damon looked in her eyes and saw the sadness, and yet also the loving heart inside. A wash of guilt rolled over him in that moment, thinking of his vow not to be selfish with her. He gave her a half smile, then, framing her face with his hands, he kissed her cheek.

"Thank you, Elena," he whispered into her ear. He turned away from her then and speedily wrapped himself in a towel. He stayed turned away from her for a few more moments, trying to shake the feelings inside himself - feelings of conflict, guilt. As a vampire he had always been able to hone in on the right path, even if it meant doing terrible things to get there. As a human - a temporary human, he thought wildly - that sense of rightness felt hazy, as if he could go a hundred different directions and any one of them might be the right way. "I'll meet you downstairs in a minute."

Elena's brows furrowed in concern, but she said nothing, only left Damon alone in the room while she found her own clothes.

"What is wrong with me?" Damon growled once he heard the door close behind Elena. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and leaned close to the mirror to examine his own face. He looked like himself, but different. More alive, he supposed. He looked at his own pale eyes in the mirror, wondered if he still had any of his vampire abilities.

He quickly and efficiently toweled off and dressed, pulling on his favorite pair of black jeans and a heather grey Henley with the top buttons open. He took a deep breath, then pressed it out as he channeled his strength into the muscles of his legs, willing himself to move quickly out of his room and down the stairs. He moved speedily through the house - and noiselessly, he thought happily to himself - but he was still not nearly as fast as he would have liked.

"Looks like you're on half power, there," Alaric joked from his seat on the couch. He had a laptop perched on his legs, and a glass of bourbon on the coffee table in front of him. Damon shot him a nasty look.

"Yeah, I noticed." Damon plunked down on the couch next to the other man, then reached out to take the half empty glass. He was shocked when Alaric swatted his hand away without even looking up from the computer screen.

"I'm trying to help you out, man. Go get your own." Damon grumbled but got up and crossed to the set of decanters behind the couch.

"So what're you looking at?" He poured himself a three fingers of whiskey and shot it back, feeling the burn slide down his throat and rest like a fire in his gut. He poured again then paced back to the couch.

"I'm looking up how often blood recycles in the human body." Alaric looked up at Damon then back at the screen. "You're not going to like it."

"What?" He grabbed the laptop by the top of the screen and turned it around. Before he had a chance to scan the article, Alaric was talking.

"It says that on average, red blood cells stick around for 120 days," Ric reached forward and grasped his drink, sipped it. "I'd give you 90, since you've still got some vamp stuff going on, but it looks like you'll be living the slow life for a while."

"Four months?" Damon tossed the laptop onto the couch and stalked to the fireplace and rested his forehead on the cool stone. Four months. Four months of being human, oh being inadequate, weak, and powerless. Powerless to protect Elena from the inevitable moment when Klaus found out she wasn't dead.

"Elena, where is she?" He turned his head and looked at Ric, his eyes wide.

"Relax, Damon, I sent her to school. I called in sick, though. You seemed like you needed a moment - and then a drinking buddy."

Damon's eyes blazed around the room wildly, his lips pursed tightly, looking like a caged tiger. He swallowed hard and focused his piercing blue eyes on the other man.

"This is not okay Ric. I cannot be human. Not right now. Stefan is gone, Katherine - well, at least she's gone. The only vampire we have on our side is Barbie, and her pet werewolf." He pressed the heels of both hands into his eyes, then sighed disgustedly. "This is not good."

"Klaus thinks she's dead, Damon - she's safe!" Ric refilled the other man's glass and handed it to him.

"For now. But how long will it be until Klaus gets to Stefan? And how long will Stefan be willing to stay away from Elena? I'm basically human." Damon accepted the glass and drank deeply, closing his eyes and enjoying the flavor of the aged whiskey. "It just seems like I'm usually the only one willing to do the hard stuff to keep Elena alive. This complicates things."

"You know, it's okay to enjoy it."

"What?" Damon cocked an eyebrow at his friend and sneered.

"You know, you're human. So is Elena. This might be the only time in her life that she gets to be in love with a human." He coughed, raised his eyebrows and emptied his own glass, then licked his lips and turned to refill his cup. "More?"

"No." The dark haired man sat down, holding the cup between his two hands. He tapped his ring distractedly on the glass rim. He set the cup aside swiftly, then pulled off his ring and looked at it before handing it to Ric.

"Hold this," he said, dropping it into the other man's drink. Alaric mumbled something that sounded like 'dick' under his breath and watched the other man stride into the other room and open the heavy curtains. Alaric fished the ring out while he watched. Damon raised both hands out to his sides as he had mere days ago when he thought he was going to die.

This time there was no pain, no heat, no burning. Only the feeling of the warm sun on his face. He smiled crookedly to himself.

"Human," he murmured to himself. "I'm human."


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you okay, Elena?" Elena and Bonnie were sitting at the lunch table after school, and Elena had been staring at a blank notebook page, holding a mechanical pencil absently in her right hand. At her name she snapped her head up and looked around, unable to even identify who had called her name.

"What?" She looked from one familiar face to the other, then sighed and shook her head, trying to clear the fog that had descended over her.

"I said, are you okay?" Bonnie was looking at her, his brows furled in his usual look of concern.

"I – I'm not really sure, to be honest." She raked her dark hair back from her face and pressed her lips together, troubled. She had tried to make it through the school day by pretending that everything was fine, but the act had worn very thin by the end of the day. "Stefan is gone." She nodded slowly and looked at Bonnie through her lashes.

"What do you mean _gone_?" Caroline slid into a vacant chair at the table and looked pointedly at Elena.

"He, uh, he gave himself over to Klaus to save Damon's life." She shifted uncomfortably.

"What?!" Caroline practically shouted as she jumped up from the table. "He did _not_." Caroline's reaction made Elena cringe, and she knew there was no way she could tell them what had happened the night before with Damon. She nodded weakly, setting down the pencil she had been absentmindedly tapping, eraser than tip over and over on the crisp paper.

"What does that mean, he gave himself over to Klaus?" Bonnie was looking into her friend's eyes, could sense that something was amiss. Bonnie made a note to get Elena alone later – clearly something had happened.

"I don't know. When Katherine came with the cure, she just said that Stefan was paying for it."

"Wait, now Katherine is running around loose? How can this possibly get any worse?" Caroline emoted, her words filled with her typical dramatic turns. She sat back down and pressed her hands flat down on the grey Formica lunch tables. "We need a plan of action. Tonight – All of us at the Salvatore boarding house. We have to figure out how to get Stefan back!"

"Well, I'm not sure that Damon's going to be ready for visitors just yet..." Elena let her words trail off, thinking of the state Damon had been in when Alaric had shooed her out the door to school that morning. She had been surprised when Alaric had suggested – well, demanded, really – that she go to school and try to get through the day. Deep down, she had known that Ric was the best person to talk Damon down. It had also ensured that she hadn't jumped back into bed with him. She blushed, thinking of it.

"I thought you said Katherine gave him a cure!" Caroline retorted, falling back into the chair and propping her head up on her hand. Elena twisted uncomfortably in her seat and pursed her lips, thankful that Caroline was too caught up to notice her flush.

"Well, the cure - it was Klaus' blood - did heal the werewolf bite, but there was a side effect."

"What now, is Damon a hybrid?" Bonnie cocked a shapely eyebrow at Elena. Whatever had happened had something to do with Damon, now Bonnie was sure of it – Elena looked uneasy every time she said his name.

"No, he's a little more..." she paused, knowing that Damon wouldn't be pleased that she had told her friends about his temporary humanity. "Vulnerable," she finished at last. They didn't need to know exactly what he was right now, only that he needed protection.

"Well, Alaric can play host. We can set Damon up on the couch with a blanket and box of tissues or whatever," Caroline bubbled, glossing over the apprehension in Elena's voice. "Let's meet over there at about six."

Elena agreed, numbly mumbling the affirmative and getting up from the table. This was going to be bad.

###

Elena had spent the entire day trying to think of anything but the Salvatore brothers. Of the events of the last twenty four hours. Trying to decipher what had happened in that time was like trying to read a book in the reflection of a fun house mirror.

Stefan. It had always been Stefan. Hadn't she been telling herself that for months now? And yet now Stefan was gone, and she had gotten in bed with Damon. She sat down on her own bed and kicked off her shoes, feeling like her head was spinning. She pressed the palms of her hands to her forehead, willing herself to take a few slow deep breaths.

She had almost told Damon that she loved him, for goodness sakes! And now Stefan was off 'paying' for the cure that had saved his brother's life. What had happened in that moment that had changed her so? What had she seen in Damon the night before that she had only seen peeks and glimpses of before?

She knew what it was, of course. It was his humanity, the very vulnerability that she had mentioned to her friends. He was no longer some superhuman god to her, he was a man, warm and imperfect and alive. She had seen his heart last night, had seen the next morning his doubts and fears, the raw need for her shining through his eyes and his voice. She hugged herself, remembering that moment. He had needed her, not because she looked like Katherine or had Petrova blood, but because she was a woman who he loved. Had always loved. She had seen that in him last night.

Guilt settled heavily on her chest as she leaned back and lay flat on the bed. Stefan had been willing to sacrifice himself for her not two days prior. Two days ago she would have chosen Stefan, even though the act of Damon feeding her his blood had meant he had chosen her. Stefan had been willing to abide by her decisions, even if they endangered her own life, or the lives of those around her. Damon had never been willing to stand by while she put herself in harm's way. He had said it to her, and she hadn't really taken it seriously until now: 'I will always choose you.'

She wondered to herself, now, how many times he had said 'I love you' in ways like that, ways that she had never noticed, never understood. She fingered her necklace absently and couldn't help it when a faint smile curved on her lips.

###

A second chance, Damon thought to himself - even if it is only temporary. He was laying on the front lawn staring up into the sky with his arms behind his head. He had spent practically the whole afternoon laying in the sunshine, watching the clouds and daydreaming. He had spent the morning prepping a gourmet Italian dinner for Elena and himself, he had taken joy in perfecting the thick alfredo sauce by taste as he had done when he was a small boy with his mother. He had laughed to himself as he licked the sauce off his index finger, tickled by how simple and satisfying that moment was.

Now he stood up, brushing the grass off the seat of his pants, and went inside - his face had started to feel hot and he was thirsty. Out of habit he went to the fridge he and Stefan kept in the basement, grabbed a blood bag and tore it open absentmindedly as he walked back upstairs. The moment it touched his lips he recoiled - it didn't taste flavorful and heady. Instead it was coppery and thick - it tasted like blood. He raised his eyebrows - he supposed he would get along pretty well without being dependent on blood for a while.

He tossed the blood bag in the kitchen trash and scavenged in the fridge - he found a jug of orange juice and poured himself a glass. He swirled the pulp around in his mouth thoughtfully and swallowed. He would have to go grocery shopping soon - pretty much everything left in the fridge was something that could be mixed with alcohol. He glanced at the digital clock on the microwave - it was nearly 6. Where was Elena? I twinge of fear ran through him, flipping his stomach over. He reached into his back pocket for his phone and dialed.

"Hello?" Elena had answered after three rings.

"Elena. Are you okay? I thought you'd be over this evening. I think we have some things to discuss - but don't worry, I've got an amazing meal for you." He smirked, and all his organs settled back into their original positions.

"Oh, yeah. I'm on my way but -"

"No buts, Elena. I know that us sleeping together wasn't something either of had planned on, so -" He was interrupted by a commotion behind him. He dropped the phone and spun around, his bare feet slapping on the tile.

"Jesus, Caroline!" The tall, blonde vampire was standing behind him with a look of utter shock on her face. "I didn't hear you come in!" He reached down and picked up the phone.

"I'll see you soon," he murmured into the phone, then pressed the 'end' button.

###

"Seriously?!" Caroline was shouting.

"It's nice to see you too, Caroline." Damon flashed her a half smile and padded into the sitting room - suddenly drinking sounded like a good idea. "You're welcome for that whole rescue of you and your werewolf friend, too, by the way." He slowly poured himself a drink, taking his time with it so he didn't have to face her. The longer she didn't catch on to the fact that he wasn't exactly a vampire, the better.

"I cannot believe you," Caroline ranted. Her voice was breathy and high. "Your brother is out of the picture less than 24 hours, and you're already moving in on Elena? How dare you take advantage of her grief!"

"I assure you, Blondie, that there was no advantage being taken – I was dying, remember?" He knocked back the generous pour of bourbon, felt it trickle hotly down into his belly. His excellent mood had been soured, and already he was learning that his tolerance for liquor – particularly on an empty stomach -was much diminished.

"You are so full of crap, Damon. I –" she narrowed her eyes at him, turned her head askance. "Is there a human here?" The smell of blood was pungent, and fresh – much more potent than any blood bag. It smelled dark and smooth, like a well-aged brandy. She moved toward him in long feline steps, grabbed his wrist. She looked at him again, confusion plainly visible on her face. She could hear his heart beating faster – a human sound. She felt her mouth hanging open, her fangs unconsciously elongating at the smell of blood. Of Damon's blood.

He smiled at her, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol, his eyes twinkling.

"Surprise."


	4. Chapter 4

Elena felt like she might throw up as she walked up the front walk of the Salvatore boarding house. Caroline had been early – of course she was early, this was Caroline, after all. Bonnie had arrived in the meantime, she noted. The two girls had taken up position on one of the large sofas, with a very drunk looking Damon in the arm chair. She was thankful that Bonnie had not called Jeremy to come – this would be awkward enough without having to explain to her brother.

She made eye contact with Caroline first – her lips were pressed together tightly, a scowl on her usually cheery face. Elena blew out a deep breath – she was in big trouble, clearly. Bonnie's face was less angry looking, but more concerned. Bonnies was clearly uncomfortable judging by the way she was fiddling with her bracelets.

Finally she let her eyes slide over to Damon. He was sprawled in the leather arm chair, a half empty bottle of bourbon on the coffee table in front of him. His cheeks were red and blotchy, but his eyes were bright. She rolled her eyes as he stumbled out of the chair, made his way to her.

"Well, 'Lena, the cat's out of the bag so to speak." He plastered a rugged half smile onto his face. He was far more drunk than he had been in a very long time. He felt out of control, but joyfully so. He reveled in the sensations that his erstwhile human body offered him. He put his arm around her, the sensation of his skin toughing hers sending a jolt through him. The memory of her body under his flashed through his mind, making him feel hot. What he wouldn't give to be with her again.

Ric was nowhere in sight, but Elena could hear clattering around in the kitchen that she supposed meant that he was hiding out from all the drama. She wished she could go hide out with him.

"Hi guys." She murmured, looking around uncomfortably. She led Damon to the couch opposite the girls and sat down.

"Alaric, don't think just because you're in the kitchen that you're not going to be a part of this conversation." Caroline shouted assertively. Moments later Alaric emerged from the hall with plates of toasted bruschetta.

"I thought we could all use something to eat while we strategize." He offered, setting down two plates stacked high with points of toast covered in tomatoes and herbs. He took one and sat back in the arm chair, raising an eyebrow discreetly at Damon. Damon shrugged apathetically and grabbed a toast point.

"Like mama used to make," he nodded appreciatively as he chewed. "I'm impressed, Ric." Meanwhile Caroline was getting more and more flustered watching this while situation.

"I'm sorry, can we get to the conversation at hand? Here's a recap - Stefan's missing, Damon has been saved from the werewolf bite - but now he's basically human - Katherine is out on the loose somewhere, and Elena and Damon hooked up." The last words were spoken with disdain. There was an almost simultaneous intake of air as everyone gathered took in what had been said.

"Thanks for that, Care." Elena retorted, her voice thick with sarcasm.

"Hey, I'm not the one who -"

"Alright, alright, enough," Alaric broke through the bickering. He looked skyward and shook his head, trying to remind himself that he was the adult in a room full of adolescents. "I've been calling Stefan's cell phone all day - he's not answering. Damon is, well..."

"I wouldn't say I'm completely human," Damon interrupted. He wasn't about to let on that his speed had slowed to nothing that afternoon, and that he wasn't even drinking blood, couldn't. Despite the joy that he had allowed in that afternoon, his stomach roiled with fear when he thought about the fact that Caroline was the only fully functional vampire in Mystic Falls - and that she didn't like Damon very much. He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. "But some of my vampire juju is on hiatus. That means you get to play the role of bad ass until I'm better, blondie." He flashed his signature grin, then grabbed another bruschetta.

"On hiatus," Bonnie repeated. "So what exactly does that mean?"

"Well," he swallowed the bite and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It means that for the next few months, I'll be passing for human. Food, boo-boos - all that stuff."

"Uh huh." Bonnie drawled, eyeing the dark haired man skeptically.

"Unless there's something witchy you can do?" He pulled up his sleeve to show her the scabbed over cut on his forearm. He watched her dark face intently, saw her eyebrows press together in consternation. She held both hands over Damon's arm, bringing the power up from inside. She concentrated, focusing all of her will on seeking out the magic at play inside him. After a few moments, she relaxed her face and removed her hands.

"There's no spell at work – you said Klaus' blood did this?" Damon nodded the affirmative. "I'll do some more research when I get home, but I don't know what I'll find. Have you ever heard of anything like this Ric?"

"Nope." He spun the thick ring on his finger. "But I suppose we could check Isobel's archives." He doubted that there was anything about this in her research, though. Her file on Klaus had been no more than a sheet of paper with a few dates and places – certainly nothing about the magical properties of his blood.

"So, Stefan." Elena said, clearing her throat. She felt guilty even saying his name after what had happened. "We need to get a line on where he is, and if he's okay. Do we have any idea what Klaus would want with Stefan?"

"I can have my mom keep an eye out for any suspicious deaths – especially animal attacks." Caroline spoke up, taking on her usual air of authority. "Elena, you keep calling Stefan. Maybe he'll answer for you. Bonnie, maybe you can do a tracking spell?"

"Sure – I can try."

"And Damon, why don't you make a list of places he might go – just in case he gets away from Claus and can't get back here." She locked eyes with him meaningfully, and then he realized why. "And stay out of Elena's pants." He cursed under his breath.

"Oh, I think I'm going to like being the bad-ass," she joked, scooping up the bourbon bottle at vamp sped and taking a long swig. She smiled at him sardonically. He didn't even bother trying to take it back – there was no way he could take her. This was going to be a long summer.

###

Everyone made an expedient beeline for the door as the meeting adjourned – all but Elena. She stood awkwardly at the door, unsure of whether she should stay or go. Damon looked into her deep brown eyes, narrowed his eyes in a look of uncertainty and then motioned towards the kitchen with a tilt of his head.

"I promised you dinner," he said, brushing by her. She followed him with trepidation, bracing herself for the really awkward conversation that they were inevitably going to have. He gestured her to have a seat at the table while he finished putting together dinner. There was a long, thick silence between them as he worked sautéing chicken breasts and boiling pasta.

"Damon, I think what happened last night was a mistake." She spit it out. Caroline had shamed her, but good. She hadn't even had the courage to try and text Stefan yet - how was she going to talk to him when he got back? What's worse, she had basically been the instigator. Even if she did have feelings for Damon - she certainly couldn't deny that she did - she cared for Stefan.

"Do you want white wine, or red?" His blue eyes flashed at her, catching her by surprise. He was not going to let her push him away, he thought to himself. She needed him, just as he needed her. He silently cursed Caroline - if she only knew the pain she was causing! Elena blinked twice, looked down at her hands and smiled the tiniest bit.

"White." Damon turned to the fridge and opened it, hiding the smile and the sigh of relief that came, unbidden, to his lips. She would stay. He closed the fridge door, rummaged through the drawer for a corkscrew.

"Damon," Elena tried again, touching the cuff of his soft grey shirt. His eyes snapped from her hand to her soft brown eyes. He set the wine bottle down, unopened, and pressed her against the cabinets.

"No, Elena. I won't let you say that, not when you don't mean it." He moved closer, his lips a breath from hers, pressed her hand to his heart. "You can't tell me you don't feel this."

Her heart skipped as he spoke, her fingertips resting on the bare skin of his chest peaking from the unbuttoned neck of his Henley. She closed her eyes, her lips trembling.

"I can't," she whispered, her heart aching. Damon raised his free hand to her face, angling her face up to look at him, his thumb stroking her cheek. He watched a tear fall from her dark lashed eye.

"I know," he murmured back to her. "I know. But I'm here, and I'm not leaving." Their lips found each other in that moment, a soft kiss. This was not a kiss of passion, of fire, as they had been last night. Instead this was gentle, kind, balm for her soul. He deepened the kiss, fighting the needs within himself, focusing only on setting order to the tumult within Elena. Finally he pulled his face away and pressed her toward him, angling her head onto his shoulder.

"I feel like I'm going to break." Elena's voice was barely a whisper.

"I'll be here to pick up the pieces." Damon responded, petting her hair. And then he led her upstairs, without a word, without hesitation. She stood, motionless, while he undressed her and tucked her into his bed. He smiled down at her, tucking the goose down duvet under her chin.

"You rest. I'll go get you the best fettuccini alfredo you've had in your life." She smiled weakly at him, tears still threatening at the corners of her eyes, and nodded.

###

Hours later, Elena woke up, warm, comfortable and satisfied. Damon had brought her dinner in bed, and let her eat in silence. She had waited for him to push his luck, to try something, but he never did. She rolled over, expecting to find him in bed with her - in his own bed - but he wasn't there. Instead she found him slumped over in an armchair across the room, his breathing quiet. _Oh Damon_. She flipped back the covers and donned the robe that he had left for her. She padded over to his sleeping form, hiding her smile with her hand when she saw that he had drooled on himself. She traced her fingertips over his cheek and when he did not stir she glided quietly past Damon in search of a blanket to cover him up with.

Stefan's room was just as he had left it but, of course, he wasn't there. All of the artifacts and mementos of his life were stacked neatly on tables, or set together on bookshelves. She ran her hand across the spines of countless leather bound tomes, sorrowful. _I'm so sorry, Stefan._ She thought to herself. He was gone now, with Klaus, she hoped, and not dead. Even if he came back, though, things had changed. Whatever feelings she had for Damon aside, she had slept with him. How would she ever be able to explain? Why should she have to she thought, suddenly angry. She pressed her lips together hard, forcing back tears.

Her hands trembled as she tore books of the shelf and tossed them to the floor, upended furniture and sent delicate treasures smashing to the floor. The tears flowed freely as she tore pages from a hundred and fifty years of journals, scattered them like leaves. She didn't know what she was doing until, strong arms came around her, pulled the letter opener out of her hand and brushed the feathers from her face.

"Elena," his voice held all the sorrow she felt. "We're going to find him. I promise." He pulled her back so she could see his face. "Elena." His voice was a plaintive plea. "It's ok…Or it's going to be." They sat there together on his brother's bed for a long time, holding hands. His eyes passed over the destruction she had wrought. He didn't blame her. After a long time, he leaned back on the bed and kicked his booted feet up onto the remains of the bedding. Elena followed suit, and he secretly thrilled when she curled up to him.

"You know Klaus really hates me, right?" She could feel the small shaking of her body as she laughed. "So, for him to trade Stefan for my life – he must really want Stefan. Klaus has something planned. He's alive, Elena, and I _will_ find him for you." He felt her curl closer, her head on his chest.

"Right now, I don't even know if I want him home." The words held more hurt than sadness. She shocked herself by saying the words out loud. Did she really mean that? She sighed. She didn't know what she felt. All she really knew was that Damon was here, holding her, because Stefan had sacrificed himself. He knew he was leaving her alone with Stefan, he knew that Damon was in love with her. He knew that Elena cared about Damon, though certainly he didn't know how deeply those feelings secretly ran.

Damon held her, listening to her words. He felt conflicted, more than he had in a long time. If Stefan had not left, Damon would be dead. He had to appreciate that his brother had saved his life. On the other hand, he had left Elena behind, devastated and ready to crumble. What did he think was going to happen? Damon sighed in frustration.

He would not be the arms that Elena conveniently fell into in Stefan's absence, as much as he might want her. He would bring Stefan back for her. He would be her hero, even if he was only human. He owed it to his brother, and he owed it to Elena. Even more, he owed it to himself.

* * *

**A/N: This is (in my mind) going to be a pretty long story (50k+), so please bear with me as the characters develop. It's my intention to follow the rough timeline laid out in season 3, but with the AU of this timeline changing things up. In the next few chapters we'll check in with Stefan, Klaus, and Katherine. Hopefully I can will the characters into a little more sex, too. ;)**

**As always, reviews are welcome and appreciated!**


	5. Chapter 5

"What's the point of having a cell phone if you don't answer it, brother? You saved my life, but you've left without putting the rest of your affairs in order. You are seriously going to regret leaving if you stay away much longer." Damon punched the 'end' button testily and tossed his phone onto his bed. He had been calling Stefan for days, and each time it rang through to voicemail. He growled in frustration and looked skyward, thinking some very uncomplimentary things about his dear brother.

Damon padded barefoot to the dresser, pulled out a fresh pair of pants and dressed silently, not bothering to find socks. The whole situation was like a cruel joke. He finally had what he most deeply desired – Elena and his humanity – and yet it was impossible to enjoy. He pouted while he brushed his teeth and shaved, remembering to be extra careful with the strait edge razor he preferred. It was one of the few things he had kept from his years as a human - his father, Giuseppe, had given it to him on his 16th birthday. He smiled bitterly as he lathered up his face, thinking of how proud his father had been that his son was now a man.

He had always hoped to pass it on - a family heirloom - but of course, those dreams had died the night his father had killed him. He flipped a swath of shaving cream into the sink bitterly with a flick of his wrist. He had been twenty four and had never really known love. Foolishly, he had fallen for Katherine – utterly - but she had never loved him in return, never cared for him, really. He had been a pawn, a useful tool, and above all, a plaything. His fondness for her, his selfless act of trying to save her had cost him his very life. She took care of herself, she would often say.

He set the razor aside and splashed his now-smooth face with cool water, feeling the heat of anger on his cheeks. He looked at his own eyes in the mirror – strikingly blue. He forced angry tears back by closing his eyes and clenching his jaw. When would it finally be his turn to feel real love?

###

"I cannot believe this is happening to me," Katherine moaned as she trudged through the dark forest. One of her stiletto heels had broken hours ago, and her hair was disheveled, full of sticks and leaves.

"I am Katherine Pierce!" She muttered to no one in particular. "I _embody_ the Petrova fire, god damn it!" She stopped where she was and screamed furiously, flailing her arms. Her thrashing caused her other heel to finally give way, and she fell squarely on her butt. Livid, she tore the boots off her feet and threw them away from her. She allowed herself to fume for exactly thirty seconds, then she took a deep breath and sighed, taking in her surroundings.

There was a huge pale oak behind her, so she scooted back to rest her back against the thick trunk. So here she was, she thought to herself. Alone and human in the dark, quiet forest. She tapped the first two fingers of her left hand on her chin thoughtfully, reviewing the events of the last few days.

As soon as she had given Damon the cure, she had compelled the first human she had come across to drive her out of Mystic Falls. She had decided on Chicago, based on a hunch she had, but also because it had an international airport. When she realized what was happening to her, and had no more compulsion, she was glad she had chosen wisely.

Unfortunately, the car had broken down in a woodsy area well outside of the Windy City. She had flirted, intimidated and begged with her companion, but to no avail. Once he - Steve, she found out - had cleared, he realized he had no idea who this mad woman was, and had left her at the side of the road. Without money or transportation she had hoofed it, taking off into the woods in the general direction of the big city.

And now here she was, she thought to herself. She twisted her purse around her body in front of her, and dug through it. Her cell phone had died already - she tossed it in the general direction of her shoes, rummaging deeper. Two snicker bars, a bottle of water, and a variety of cosmetics.

"At least I won't starve to death." She laughed mirthlessly. She unwrapped one of the candy bars, took a not-so-dainty bite and chewed thoughtfully. She had most certainly been in worse scrapes than this, she reasoned. Of course, she had been a vampire then.

When she had finished, she tucked the wrapper into her purse, took a sip of water and huffed out a sigh. It was twilight. No point wandering through the woods barefoot in the dark. Stuffing her purse into the hollow of the tree, she rested her head on it, curled up, and tried to sleep.

###

"I do love a good road trip, don't you?" Klus' voice was full of mockery. He turned to his erstwhile companion and smiled. "I'll let you choose what music we listen to." He finished cheekily.

Stefan did his best not to roll his eyes. They had already been together for several weeks, checking in with a variety of shady contacts – and a few very respectable ones – who had known practically nothing about Mason Lockwood or his pack. The only thing they knew was his address in Pensacola, Florida, and that he traveled up and down the coast. It had taken them a week to nail down if he actually lived there for any length of time. Finally, Klaus had decided that they would drive down and have a look.

"I'm here with you because I'm repaying a debt, Klaus. That doesn't mean I have to play buddy-buddy with you." He frowned, feeling his phone buzz against his leg. This was the third time today. Bracing his right leg against the floor of the car he stretched back and fished the phone from his front pocket.

"Well, well. Aren't you the popular one?" Klaus commented, noting what the other man was doing. Stefan looked at the caller ID hesitantly. He was always terrified that Elena would call, that her name, her face would flash across the screen. She couldn't be stupid enough to risk everything by calling him, would she? Thankfully it was Damon again.

Damon, at least, had the good sense not to mention Elena in his messages, at least not by name. He could read between the lines – Elena was not dealing well with his absence. Stefan furrowed his brows and deleted the message, as he had with all the others. She wasn't supposed to like it, but she was supposed to let him go. He had already killed, fed, dismembered people on Klaus' say so. He wanted Elena to hate him. He didn't want to have to feel the heartache and the remorse that came with ever kill, but he couldn't turn it off, not yet. Frankly, there was no way not to hurt her, and he hated himself for it.

"Just Damon again." He sighed, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

"Another message telling you of his undying gratitude for saving his life, no doubt," Klaus chuckled sarcastically. Both men knew that the hybrid had heard the message, along with every other voicemail.

"A little music sounds good, after all," Stefan grumbled flipping on the radio and scanning through the local stations. Hardly anything came in, but he found one station playing Taylor Swift and smiled inwardly.

"Ugh, anything but this," Klaus appealed. "I still can't understand how country music became its own genre here." He flipped the station absently. Kansas blasted through the speakers, and Stefan chuckled grimly. He turned the volume up as they drove on.

###

"Have you heard anything yet?" Elena asked Damon, as she did every time she saw him. It had become a dance they did, a ritual they had been practicing for weeks.

"Nope," he responded, stressing the 'p'. "I'm starting to think he doesn't like me anymore, the way he ignores my messages." He raised an eyebrow and smiled at Elena, making her laugh for a moment before her face turned serious again.

"Do you think he's okay? He can't be dead – I would just know, right? I keep wondering what Klaus is doing to him –"

"Klaus may be evil, but he's not insane. He's got some plan up his sleeve. We just have to keep our eyes open and wait him out." Damon put his arm around Elena as they walked from the boarding house to his car. She had gotten comfortable with these little gestures of affection, trying to convince herself that they were just Damon's attempt at being friendly and comforting. They had entered a strange stasis – they hadn't slept together again, but they both acknowledged the feelings that simmered just below the surface.

Elena had spent a lot more time with Damon recently, not only in search of Stefan, but because Damon needed guidance on being human again. She smiled as she settled into the passenger seat of his car, thinking of it. She looked over at him from the corner of her eyes and smiled. He had finally admitted, after carefully testing to be sure that his compulsion powers were gone, that he hadn't paid for a meal in nearly a half century. He had also compelled house cleaners and a mechanic, who now required payment, which meant going to the bank.

It also meant having relevant photo ID, which Damon had, of course, never had a use for.

"I worked with a forger in New York for a while, and he always just gave me whatever I needed." He had told her, shrugging his shoulders. He handed her a New York state license that had expired before she was born. She eyed him incredulously and shook her head, momentarily speechless.

"Are you up for a road trip?" He waggled his eyebrows at her in mock innuendo.

"Are you serious?" She narrowed her brown eyes at him. Thus far he had done everything in his power to keep her from running off looking for Stefan, and now he was suggesting that the go gallivanting off to the Big Apple?

"Well, as much as I would love to walk into the Mystic Falls DMV and register for a new license with _no identification whatsoever_, I think a trip to NYC sounds like a nice distraction from the events of late. I'll show you a good time, I promise." He add the last sentence casually, but it hit an unexpected place inside Elena and she felt thrill rush through her body, settling firmly between her thighs.

"Ummm," she drawled, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn't know it, but she was driving him wild. "Okay, I guess. But how long do you think we'll be gone?"

"It's summer break, Elena. You have nowhere to be, and you haven't had real fun since the last time I took you out of state." He winked at her. She still looked unsure, and he rolled his eyes. "Stefan isn't just going to come strolling back here while we're out on an errand. Klaus doesn't work that way."

Elena looked out the passenger window uncomfortably. He had pin pointed what she was thinking exactly. It was then that she noticed that they weren't driving towards the Grill, as they had intended, but out towards the interstate. She whipped her head around, brown hair flying wildly.

"I already packed you a bag." He said, meeting her eyes and giving her a devilish half smile. "We'll be there by night fall. There's snack in the glove box."

Elena took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly. She shook her head at him, then reached for the glove box. Maybe a road trip would be fun after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry the last chapter took me so long to write! Here's a new one to make up for it. Getting back to some sexy sex like the first chapter. ;)**

* * *

It was Stefan's turn to drive when the two vampires arrived at a small surf shop on the Gulf of Mexico. Klaus pointed at the small building on the beach front, smiling broadly.

"That'll be the one." He said, unbuckling his seatbelt before Stefan had even thrown the car into park. Stefan took more time, setting the emergency break, making sure the headlights were off, and making sure that the seatbelt fully retracted before stepping out of the vehicle.

"You know, dawdling won't change what's going to happen in there." Klaus said quietly. "I've allowed you a lot of latitude on this little outing, don't make me regret it." His words were icy and sharp as he turned his head to look the other man in the eye. There was a silent acknowledgement there between the two as first Klaus and then Stefan entered, a string of bells jingling at the open door.

"Welcome to the Surf Shack, guys. What can I do you for?" The man standing at the old fashioned cash register was tall and well-tanned, with sun bleached hair and dark, thick eyebrows. "You looking for anything in particular?" He added after looking the two pale, dark haired men up and down.

"Anything in particular?" Klaus repeated, his eyes alight with malice. "Why, yes, I believe we are." He glanced at Stefan and nodded his head so slightly that a human eye wouldn't have caught it. Stefan steeled himself to another kill and surged forward and grasped the human by the throat. He pressed the man's body against the counter, pulling him off his feet and laying him out on a surf board display in front of the counter.

"There's money in the register, man, I can open it for you. Whatever you want." The blond pleaded. He had raised his hands to his throat, but Stefan's grip was like iron.

"I hear your name is Jake." Klaus strolled forward and looked down at the other man. "So Jake, I'm going to give you a chance tell me exactly what I need to know. I am looking for something _very_ particular, and I've been told that you can point me in the right direction. I have the feeling you already know what I'm talking about." Klaus flashed his eyes open, revealing the bright yellow eyes of a werewolf.

"Oh Jesus," Jake whimpered. "You're one of them – like Ray and Mason." Klaus smiled darkly, pursing his lips.

"Well now, I'm glad you know what we're here for. Where is he?" Stefan let up on the man's throat, letting him sit up. Jake rubbed at the red marks on his throat, but remained sitting on the surf board.

"Ray? Man, I haven't seen him in months! He went North a few months ago. I haven't seen him since."

"You're going to have to do a little better than _that_." Klaus said, an edge coming into his voice. "What do you know about Ray Sutton, Jake?"

"Nothin' man. We hang out at the bar, he works for me when he can't find seasonal work out on the Gulf." He shrugged his shoulders. Stefan huffed out a breath of impatience and looked skyward.

"Seriously, Jake? Are we going to have to do this the hard way?" He stepped closer and looked him in the eye. "What do you know about Ray?" His eyes dilated quickly as he compelled the other man.

"He's like, like you. He travels the coast doing odd jobs, working where he can. He has, uh," Jake swallows hard, clearly trying to resist Stefan's compulsion. "He has friends he stays with just outside Memphis. M-my cousin and his sister are roommates out there." His eyes went wide and he shoved his hand over his mouth, clearly shocked by what he had just divulged.

"Memphis, you say?" Klaus pursed his lips again and raised his eyebrows. He strode over to the counter and ripped a flyer off the back wall, along with a pen from the desk. "Here, give me directions."

"Okay, uh, sure." Jake obediently drew a tidy map, scrawling a few written instructions at the bottom. Stefan watched with cool detachment, knowing what would happen next. "Here you go."

With the note in hand, Klaus looked the other man in the eyes, and used his compulsion.

"Run."

Jake took off like a shot out the door and out onto the sand.

"Go on, Stefan. Clean that up for me, won't you? We have a few stops to make before we hit Memphis, and the quicker we start off the better." Stefan nodded, out the door and down the beach in the blink of an eye. Klaus heard the human scream for a moment, then only the sound of the surf hitting the sand.

###

When Damon's phone buzzed in his pocket, there was a brief moment when he expected it to be Stefan. His heart sank a little when he saw who it actually was – Sherriff Forbes.

"Good evening Liz," he answered smoothly, peeking into the back seat to be sure that Elena was sleeping, covered with his jacket. He spared a second to smile at the sight of her, her face neutral, her fingers curled around the collar of the black leather. Then he turned his attention back to the phone call. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Hi Damon. I hate to call for something like this, but you asked me to keep an eye out for dismemberments and –"

"What did you find, Liz?" Damon sat forward in the driver's seat and took the first exit off the interstate, parking quietly in a motel lot and pulling a pad of paper and a pencil out of the glove box.

"Well, I just heard back about the body in the car in Georgia – definitely dismembered – a teenager from the local highschool. Then they finally found some missing campers in North Carolina. The coroner there thinks they were mauled by a bear – body parts everywhere, was how he described it. The most recent one was on the Gulf coast – Pensacola. Guy's head was found on the beach. A few days later the other pieces of him washed up."

Damon diligently scrawled all of this onto a sheet of notebook paper, shaking his head ever so slightly as he wrote.

"Thanks, Liz. I'll let you know what I find out." He ended the call and tucked his phone away. He glanced back at Elena, and his heart broke for her. This was Stefan, and he knew it – had known it from the moment that Liz had called him the first time about the campers. He looked down at the locations and details he'd written down, then pulled his travel atlas out from under the passenger seat. Turning to the US states map, he drew a dot on each of the locations. What was the connection? And why a high school kid and some campers?

"What are you _doing_, brother?" He whispered in frustration. He had gone Ripper on the East coast again, just as he had in the 20s. As a vampire, he might have been able to stop Stefan, to overpower him, dry him out. As a human, there was no way. He was just another blood bag, another potential victim Stefan could go overboard with. Damon shuddered involuntarily, feeling particularly vulnerable. He put his face in his palms, then sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair.

"Damon?" A groggy voice called from the back seat. He turned around – she was sitting up looking at him with his coat bunched around her shoulders. "Are you okay? Where are we?"

"I'm too tired to drive any farther tonight," he answered before he even realized what he was saying. Suddenly he was completely exhausted. "I'm going to go get us a room." She nodded sleepily, and snuggled more deeply into his jacket, breathing in the heady scent of him. She yawned and closed her eyes for another moment, and suddenly he was back.

"Come on princess." He said, lifting her up out of the back seat. She had real weight in his arms without his vampire strength, but it made carrying her into the room all the more satisfying. He fumbled with the key in the dark, but finally managed to unlock the motel room door.

Inside it looked like a typical small town motel, clean but comfortably shabby. When he eyed the single bed – a queen – he rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He set his beloved down gently on the bed, pulling the covers down around her so he can tuck her in, and she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

She watched him shuck off his boots and hunker down in an easy chair near the door. She pushed her own shoes off with her toes, then looked at him again, frowning.

"Damon, you can't sleep in that chair all night. You're human now. Come to bed." Her voice was practically a whisper, but it penetrated him to his core. He smiled at her, then, but his eyes held sadness. He pressed his lips together and nodded, crossing the room to slip under the covers on the other side of the bed.

"Good night Elena." He whispered to her in the darkness.

"Good night, Damon. Sweet dreams."

###

Elena woke gradually in the morning, enveloped by the woodsy scent that was Damon. A smile curved on her lips before she had even opened her eyes. When she did, she found that they had found each other in their slip – his body was pressed into her back, and she had molded herself perfectly to him. Her heart skipped as she untwined her fingers from the hand that had been thrown over her side.

She rolled over to look at Damon, and he stirred, moaning through closed lips and rubbing at the five o'clock shadow that had grown along his angular jawline. Then she watched him freeze in mid scratch and shoot his eyes open to meet her own. His face registered shock and then, so quickly that she wouldn't have seen the shock if she hadn't been watching him intently, there was the familiar smirk.

"Good morning 'Lena." He chuckled, reaching out a hand to press a stray strand of her dark hair out of her face. His touch was like an electric shock zapping through her and settling again between her thighs. It caught her by surprise. "Oh 'Lena," He sighed, and then suddenly his lips were touching hers, his fingers curled around the base of her neck.

"Damon." His name spilled from her lips breathlessly, and his body was on her, all around her. His hands roamed her body beneath the covers, pulling at the clothes she was wearing, snaking their way beneath shirts and pants, to sensitive flesh.

She gloried in it, her eyes shining with fire as she hastily pulled his pants down around his knees and yanked up her skirt. Suddenly she was frantic to feel his body pressed close, to feel him inside her again. She was wild with her need, stoking little fires all over his body as she touched him.

"Elena, are you sure?" Damon's eyes were wide, and his voice trembled as he spoke. They both knew what this meant. One time could be an accident, a mistake. If they made love again, it meant something more.

Her brown eyes were lost in the blackness of her pupils, and she pawed at him roughly, tossing him beneath her. She smiled wickedly then, and Damon shivered in anticipation. Oh god, he thought silently, this was really happening. She took his hands and held them up over his head, pressing them into the bed with her own. She leaned her long body over him, her lips on his neck.

"I've never been so sure of anything in my whole life," she murmured, and she felt his member respond beneath her. Still holding him down, she wiggled her lithe hips and suddenly the tip of his manhood was pressed to her wetness. He couldn't stand it any longer, and with a savage thrust, he was inside her. It took her by surprise, and she cried out throatily as he slammed into her.

It only took her a moment to recover, but when she did she forced his hips down with her weight, clearly getting off on being in control. She shifted both of Damon's wrists into one hand, letting her other hand run down his cheek, across his chest and back up his muscular arms. She leaned in to kiss him, then began bucking her hips wildly, angling herself so that he hit that most-sensitive spot within her.

He watched her with wonder. How had he ever come to deserve or possess a woman like her? Her show of dominance was practically more than he could bear, so he held still beneath her movements, letting her use him as she wished.

"Elena, I'm so close now," he moaned, unsure if he could hold back his climax any longer.

"I know," she smiled, then she slammed her body towards his, pumping him furiously. Her head fell back as she, too, neared the edge, and it took every once of will for Damon to keep his eyes open, to watch as they fell over the edge and beyond together. She was beautiful, dark and powerful – a bronze skinned Goddess above him. A Goddess he would worship for the rest of his days, he knew.


End file.
